A revival for white Zinfandel

An unexpected crusader for Zinfandel of another color. (Photo: Jon Bonne/The Chronicle)

Don’t be surprised if you find an unexpected entry on some fancy wine lists this summer. White Zinfandel is headed for a comeback of sorts, due to a very unexpected source: Turley Wine Cellars, one of California’s most elite Zin houses.

White Zin is hardly the sort of wine that tends to get attention from serious wine buyers. It rarely appears on any but the most basic of wine lists, nor or on the shelves of fancier wine shops/ We have theorized that it’s the wine most likely to get you ejected from, say, the French Laundry, if you were to bring a bottle. Seeing as most is invariably cheap, sugary and relegated to the under-$10 realm in the supermarket, the cold shoulder isn’t exactly a surprise.

Christina Turley, daughter of founder Larry Turley, intends to change that. After several years of lobbying, she managed to convince the rest of the Turley crew to craft a very different sort of white Zin.

First, it’s bone dry, even more refreshing than many of the rosés I recently recommended. At 11.2 percent alcohol (the grapes were picked on her birthday, Sept. 9, at 18.7 Brix from Turley’s Napa Valley estate vineyards) it shows a surprising depth — orange peel and mint leaf aromas amid a lot of bright strawberry fruit, although its bantamweight nature might be a departure from what most Turley fans have come to expect.

“We felt there was no reason why white Zinfandel couldn’t be a serious wine,” Turley says. “Plus, we all love the idea of something with a good heart and a bad reputation.”

She may be on to something. Don’t underestimate the influence of white Zin in this country. It accounts for nearly 8.5 million cases in sales each year, according to the Nielsen Co., more than four times the amount of red Zinfandel and nearly twice the amount of Sauvignon Blanc.

Of course, the 2011 Turley Napa Valley White Zinfandel (it’s not called white Zin, but you can spot it by the white capsule and label, and of course the wine’s translucency) might be a departure for those accustomed to the sweet tones of Sutter Home; it drinks closer to a rosé from the Loire Valley or Provence. That’s sort of the point — not only to underscore that white Zin (which, yes, is actually pink) can be serious, but also to remind Zin skeptics of that grape’s diversity of expressions.

Those skeptics typically include restaurant wine buyers, who seem skittish around Zin of any color. Thus most of the Turley version is destined for restaurants, for sommeliers to shock and surprise their guests. Given that rosé has become a familiar sight at the restaurant table, why not use Zin as a vehicle to make a point about what California does well? (Given her former sommelier gig in New York’s Momofuku empire, Turley knows a thing or two about what makes for catnip among hipper-than-thou somms.)

If anything, placing Zinfandel in the serious rosé fold is a return to the past. While Sutter Home essentially built its reputation on sweet white Zin, its original version made 40 years ago was dry. Only in 1975, thanks to sugar left over from an incomplete fermentation, did the sweet form take over and become a runaway hit.

For that matter, the ever-serious Ridge also followed the white Zin road, making its own for several years in the 1970s and ’80s.

Now Turley’s take, fermented with indigenous yeasts and aged in old oak barrels, has added a new chapter.

“I feel it fits in with what I see as Turley’s mission to create and maintain a unique winemaking culture in California,” Turley says. “But more accurately, we thought it would be fun to make, and plus it’d give us something to drink & dork out about.”

Turley’s white Zinfandel will be sold at a handful of restaurants; Bar Tartine in San Francisco is first on the list. Visitors to the winery’s tasting room in Templeton, near Paso Robles, can also buy it for $19/bottle.